


The Non-Sex Mantra

by tigersilver



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:41:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26151304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigersilver/pseuds/tigersilver
Summary: There's a time and place for that and it's NOT RIGHT NOW, thank you.
Relationships: Wolfram von Bielefeld/Shibuya Yuuri
Kudos: 46





	The Non-Sex Mantra

"Take your grabby hands off me, you pervert! What if someone comes in?"

"Huh. Riiight. Like they _would_ , Wolfram. I think they kind of know enough by now _not_ to walk in when we're in my bedroom together. We're _engaged_ , for god'ssake!"

His head was thumped, forcefully. Through the ringing in his ears, Yuuri heard Wolf-chan harrumph again.

"Your _mother_ , this morning."

_Thwack!_

"Your _brother_ , ten minutes ago."

_Thwack!_

"What are you _saying_ , idiot? It's like one of your horrible carriage-ways here, what with all these people whizzing in and whizzing out! And I'm _not_ going to be shamed by you, Shibuya Yuuri, not _again_ – you'd best be keeping all your various appendages on _your_ side of the bed!"

"What are _you_ saying, Wolf-chan?! I just touched you! All over, with my hands and my mouth and my—"

"Stop right there, Yuuri! Don't even say it! Not… another… _word_ – I'm warning you now!"

"Ah, come on, Wolf-chan. Just a little bit…more?"

" _No!_ I can barely look your father in the eye over the breakfast table as it is! Just _stop_ , Yuuri! Humph! Good _night!_ "

There was a short silence, in which Yuuri huffed, snuffled and snorted in barely disguised irritation and then finally rearranged himself in their shared bed, back turned to Wolfram, fully prepared to sulk.

Which he did, with plans to do so on an indefinite basis. The strained silence stretched on and on and felt vaguely uncomfortable after a while, enough so that Yuuri's rather volatile betrothed actually felt compelled to issue a rare apology.

"I'm…sorry, Yuuri. It's not that I don't _want_ to—"

"You just _did_ , dummy! Baseball!"

"Yuuri! _Eh?_ What?"

"Pochi!"

"Erm, Yuuri? Are you…alright? And it's _Liesel_ , by the way."

"Nosebleeds!"

" _Yuuri?!"_

"Rice balls!"

Wolfram sat up very fast, thoroughly disconcerted, one hand snaking to land on Yuuri's brow where it was half-buried in his wadded-up pillow, muffling his odd shouts, the other grasping the Maou's shoulder tightly, all the better to jostle him rather abruptly, as if to shake the sudden weirdness right out of the Maou. Yuuri hunched up his shoulders in dogged resistance and continued to pointedly ignore his fiancé and after a while Wolfram gave the shaking up as a bad job, but his first alarmed response and resultant rapid motion had resulted in Jennifer-chan's borrowed nightgown sagging most of the way down one pale shoulder, providing the Maou a nice panoramic view of a trim waist and the beginnings of slim hips, bound with the thin silk cords of the traditional Mazoku nobleman's undergarment.

"W-What in Shinou's Name is _wrong_ with you, wimp?" Wolf demanded after he'd ascertained that the Maou did not have an elevated temperature.

"Why are you screaming nonsense?"

Yuuri risked a quick peep over his pajama'd shoulder at his blond ball-and-chain, eyes widening in surprise. My, he'd never realized just how sexy pink floral cotton could actually be! Who knew? Oh—damn it!

"Curry! Shut up, Wolf-chan. I'm _busy_. Don't bother me."

Yuuri wisely turned his head away from the inviting disarray that was Wolfram's chosen sleepwear and shut his eyes again as he half-groaned, half-whispered:

"Thongs!"

"Yuu-riii!"

Wolf was shaking him in earnest now, terribly afraid his poor wimpy fiancé had finally snapped under the pressure of planning their wedding. He just knew that trip to Bellemariee had been a big mistake! Yuuri was _so_ not ready for this!

"No! _Not_ thongs!"

Yuuri unexpectedly lurched upright again, neatly evading the urgent hand on his shoulder, and waved an erratic and admonishing finger in Wolfram's startled face.

"I can't think about underwear right now, Wolf-chan."

"O-kay…?"

"But I _can_ think about the Fly-Bone Tribe!" the young Maou announced triumphantly. "All clickety-clack! And Adelbert – I can think about Adelbert, too."

Wolfram shook his head in total confusion at this earnest assurance and then cocked it to one side curiously, regarding Yuuri carefully. He'd determined to his own satisfaction that his apparently loopy fiancé was at least physically unharmed. Yuuri _wasn't_ raving about the extended hours they'd put in recently, trundling from Shibuya to Shinjuku to Aoyama at Jennifer-chan's behest, grimly stopping in every single shop that offered matrimonial items. He _wasn't_ livid about the marital sex manuals ('Canned Soot'? 'Kami Suet'? Some such like that, as Wolfram remembered) the Maou's honored older brother had bestowed upon them both this morning, either, though certainly that had been very upsetting at the time. And he _didn't_ seem to be foaming at the mouth, either, that telltale sign of general insanity, so what _else_ could possibly be going on with Yuuri? And—

"Why _Adelbert_ , of all people?" Really, Wolfram just wanted to know.

"'Cause he's not _sexy_ , of course! Greta! Greta's cute but she's not sexy, either, at least not _yet_ —!"

Wolfram immediately clenched his manicured hands into purposeful fists and assumed the expression that screamed of imminent pyromania.

" _Grr!_ Shinou's Blood! If I ever, _ever_ catch Greta-chan being 'sexy', Yuuri, then I'm not going to _care_ if she's our cute little daughter, she's going to stay in her room the entire time she's a teenager! She's going to stay in her room till she's _ninety_!"

"Right! You're so absolutely _right_ , Wolf-chan! Positively! I agree! We can't possibly allow our darling little girl to end up like your sexy mother, can we? Nope! Her room it shall be, with Yosak guarding her, till she forgets all about boys and clothes and all that stupid girl stuff!"

"By Shinou's Blood, we're going to need a whole squadron! Twenty-four-seven! So…you're with me on this one, then, Yuuri?"

"Damn _straight_ I am!"

Determined and completely in tune with each other, Yuuri and Wolfram shook hands over this, being the stalwart gentlemen and overprotective fathers they totally were. A companionable silence descended upon them after this more than amicable meeting-of-the-minds.

By this time, Wolfram was weary enough to yawn - a delightful little curl of pink tongue half-masked by the flash of white teeth – which instantly reminded the somewhat distracted Maou of an adorably sleepy kitten. The blonde stifled another, patting it back with a long-fingered hand, and languidly eased down onto the heaps of extra pillows Yuuri's Mama-san had earlier piled all over Yuuri's somewhat Spartan double bed, allowing himself to luxuriate in the exhaustion he so often fell prey to in Yuuri's world. He didn't bother to adjust the sleeves of his nightgown.

Yuuri groaned under his breath in barely stifled reaction and straggled back to his side of the mattress, forcing himself not to look at all the peachy skin exposed by the fallen nightgown, the long elegant line of Wolf-chan's ribcage, the delicate indentation of his navel—

A muffled curse split the comfortable silence, startling Wolfram with its succinctness, and he groggily lifted his remarkably long lashes to peer at his fiancé.

"Damn! Damn, damn, damn! All right, then - paperwork! Treaties! Agreements! Liens and deeds and contracts! Gwendal and Gunter and piles of _more_ paperwork to sign, more than I can imagine! All over my desk, my study, spilling onto the floor!"

" _Whaaat?_ Yuuri, what _are_ you babbling about?" demanded a now mildly irritated Wolfram, his lingering concern for his fiancé the only thing keeping him on this side of Morpheus's border. He rustled around on the excess of cushions, bolsters and shammed throws, bending an elbow to prop himself up.

"What's _wrong_?"

Yuuri dragged his greedy eyes away from the source of his now apparently permanent hard-on by the simple act of turning his entire body over, turtle-like, snapping off the dim bulb of the bedside lamp in passing and shuffling himself back under the covers, head rammed under the two standard-size pillows Wolf-chan allowed him.

"Sims!"

Sulkily, Yuuri blinked hard in the muffled dark, swallowing back all the _other_ words at the tip of his tongue, refusing to respond at all to his fiancé's sleepy questioning.

_Damn,_ but Wolf-chan had looked so awfully inviting just now, with his mother's stupid pink nightgown all loose and falling down and his soft blonde hair all mussed and every which way, and those moist pink lips of his just barely parted, like he was asking for a kiss—or one hell of a lot more than just a stupid kiss!

'Bishonen!"

_Sheesh_ , didn't Wolf-chan _realize_ what he was _doing_ to his poor, love-starved fiancé? Screw this whole 'being interrupted' business! No one would _dare_ walk in on them if they made enough damned noise!

He could practically _feel_ Wolf-chan staring at him.

"Meat pies!" Yuuri burst out with great indignation, frustrated beyond belief.

"Y-Yuuri?"

"Ant-lions!"

" _ **Yuuri?!"**_

"Wolf-chan, you just don't _get_ it, do you? I swear, you're _so_ godsdamned _difficult_ sometimes! Talk aout _dense!_ Etiquette lessons!"

"Huh? What _are_ you talking about, Yuuri?"

"Protocol! I am practicing my mantra here, Wolfram! Leave me in peace if you're just going to sleep!"

"Mantra? What mantra?"

"My 'non-sex' mantra, that's what! What _else_ am I supposed to do if you're so _tired_ you're making up excuses about Mom and Shori, eh? It's not like I'm going to _force_ you or anything! Jeez!"

"…Oh."

"Yeah. _'Oh.'_ "

"Yuuri?"

"Sandbears! Bicycles! Just shut up, Wolfram!"

"Yuuur-riii…."

The hand that had shaken the Maou so harshly earlier was markedly gentler this time around, fingertips trailing like the brush of Shin Makoku's fabulous flutterbees down the white plastic buttons of Yuuri's blue PJs, easing them open with the softest of sounds. The Maou tensed at this tactile foray, barely breathing, his ready repertoire of non-sexy words forgotten altogether in the wash of heat that followed that drifting hand.

"Ah."

"Yuuri, _thongs_. Nightgowns," whispered Wolfram, in a voice dripping honey. He pressed his warmth against Yuuri's spine and sighed into the Maou's sensitive nape.

"Bed, my love. _Our_ bed."

"Ah!"

"Silk sheets and down-filled pillows and those long, dark _nights_ , Yuuri."

"Oh, Wolfram!"

"Lover, Yuuri," Wolfram's voice was a sultry growl in his fiancé's blushing ear. "Best friend. _Fiancé_."

"Gods!"

Yuuri's hips had snapped to attention the instant his usual 'add-Wolf-chan-and-stir' reaction started, but he nearly lost his ability to verbalize completely when Wolf-chan's well-versed tongue found the soft crease between his left thigh and Shin Makoku's precious Royal Jewels. Heavens, that demon could move _fast!_ What he wouldn't _do_ to get Wolf-chan to actually pay attention on the baseball diamond!

" _My…_ beloved."

Wolf-chan's slightly roughened tenor was muffled now by a mouthful of something but somehow his fiancé understood _exactly_ what he was attempting to communicate.

"Ah! Ooowhoa!" Yuuri warbled and made the valiant attempt to tell Wolf-chan of his deep appreciation.

"W-Wolf-chan! Ohgodsohgodsoh _please!_ _Thongs!_ "

"Nghh! Mmmph!"

And subsequent events just got louder from there, though much less _coherent_.

…In the morning, they discovered that Yuuri's initial assertion had indeed been correct: if they made sufficient noise, no one in their right mind would _dare_ interrupt them, not even a red-faced Shori, stopping by to make sure his instructional manuals proved helpful. Not even a still slightly tousled and heavy-eyed Jennifer-chan, who'd been sufficiently occupied by an aurally-inspired Shoma-sama not to interrupt _anyone_.

It was a good mantra – very effective – but Yuuri and Wolfram liked the _other_ one better.


End file.
